


in between

by days4daisy



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Extra Treat, M/M, New Asgard, Post-Thor: Ragnarok (2017), graveyard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2020-11-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:14:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27037012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/days4daisy/pseuds/days4daisy
Summary: Some evenings, Heimdall watches Thor from afar to confirm that all is well. Tonight he follows Thor without thought. Perhaps it is the breath of winter in the air, goosebumps rising under the leather of his vambraces.
Relationships: Heimdall/Thor (Marvel)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 22
Collections: Trick or Treat Exchange 2020





	in between

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Val_Creative](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Val_Creative/gifts).



Heimdall does not need his gift to know where the night finds Thor. It is a crisp evening, driving many of their people indoors despite the early hour. The sky is a chilly shroud. A low fog parts for his boots as he takes the path up past the main square to the hilltop where they dedicated the site.

‘Burial ground’ is a misnomer, for no bodies lie under the sprawling grasses. Only stones chiseled by the elder Marjys to commemorate those lost in Asgard's final days. The realm they once called home, before fate forced their people to flee. Thor has visited often since the site’s dedication. He does so like tonight, when the inhabitants of New Asgard have retired to their beds or the village pub.

On this night, Thor stands still, a hand set upon a single memorial stone. Other nights, he tours the markers, squinting his single eye to read every rune. Even though Thor himself approved the final script for the gravestones. Though Thor no doubt has memorized every letter upon their granite faces.

Some evenings, Heimdall watches Thor from afar to confirm that all is well. Tonight he follows Thor without thought. Perhaps it is the breath of winter in the air, goosebumps rising under the leather of his vambraces.

Thor’s shorn hair remains strange to Heimdall, as does his father’s guard sitting where a blue eye should.

Thor's white-knuckled grip curls over the gravestone. “I’ve realized, Heimdall,” he says - acknowledging Heimdall without greeting. “Over our years together, I’ve crowed about my life to you. The victories, of course, some failures too. But rare have been the times when I’ve asked about yours.”

“I carry Asgard’s history with me,” Heimdall tells him. “If you have questions, you should ask them.”

His sentiment draws a smile, smaller than Thor’s usual face-lighting affair. Joy has been in short supply since their escape and subsequent settlement on Midgard. Every man, woman, and child has been tasked with work.

Thor stands at the center of everything. Negotiations with Midgard's leaders. Site surveys of what is now New Asgard. Crops. Irrigation. Plumbing. Archiving of preserved texts and artifacts. Internet providers.

“Asgard’s history, yes.” Thor’s gaze turns skyward. “But what about your history, Heimdall? Your past separated from that of our ancestors?”

“I’ve seen much,” Heimdall tells Thor. “Battles that ended in glory, others less so. Is it the latter you wish to hear of?”

When Thor smiles this time, he looks Heimdall in the eye. “Perhaps my mood wishes to have company.”

“No shortage of that these days, I'd think.”

Heimdall traces a thumb along the edge of a stone. This one commemorates the royal guard who faced Hela bravely and did not live to tell the tale. The Warriors Three lie among them, and Heimdall does not miss Thor’s single eye combing the memorial’s face.

“There were the Burning Hills of Kantor,” he says.

“I’ve always wondered,” Thor says. “Were they actually burning? Was it Mjolnir who called down lightning? Or something else perhaps?”

Heimdall chuckles under his breath. “In those days, there were stories that a great dragon lived high up on the mountain. That the beast's fire rained down on both sides of the fray in anger at the displacement of peace among its valley.

“The only fire was that of the pyres built tall and wide for the dead. From the nearby villages, the hills looked to be burning. They took the remaining strength of all who survived to build. The fires burned so hot that our eyes swelled for days after.”

“A terrible memory,” Thor observes. “But you recall it with ease.”

“It’s part of me,” Heimdall says. “As much mine as I can claim any good memory to be.”

“That is a skill I need lessons in.” Thor winds arms around himself to rub the chill from his arms. He betrays his youth in the smallest of ways. 1500 years old, a young man entering the infancy of a reign he no longer wants.

“It’s good that you come here, Thor,” Heimdall says. “It’s good to remember and to learn.”

“That’s just it,” Thor mutters; his expression grows cross. “I come here wanting to do those things, but nothing is all I find. I ask what I could have changed, or what I can do now. All I hear is silence. I can choose whether to form a schoolhouse from brick or wood, but what of how I could have saved those we lost? What will we do if such things befall this new home?”

“If the dead could tell you such things, they would be king instead of you.”

This night is not one for humor, by Thor’s side-cast gaze.

Heimdall crosses to rest hands on Thor's arms. His skin is cool to the touch in the night air.

“A king doesn’t stand alone, Thor. Your people stand with you, and your advisors. The Valkyrie with her history. Your brother with his wide ranging knowledge.”

“He could be listening, you know,” Thor points out.

“I stand with you too. My gift is yours, and my history - Asgard's or my own.” Heimdall's distorted reflection stares back from the gold of Thor’s eye guard. Thor’s arms warm under his squeeze.

Thor frowns at him. “Did my father ever confess such doubts to you?”

“To me, no. To your mother, perhaps, or others. And if he did not, that would be to his detriment. Asgard belongs to more than its king. Allow more than its king to nurture and protect it.”

Thor nods, but where Heimdall expects words to follow, there are none. Thor’s gaze turns skyward again. He stays planted firmly beneath Heimdall’s hands.

Finally, he says, “My father told a story when we were young about wolves that chased the sun and the moon of this realm. I don’t recall many such stories. My father's tales were of battle or the proud tradition of Asgard. But I remember that. Funny, isn't it?”

“If I recall,” Heimdall says, “your brother not long after bit your hand in the form of a wolf.”

Thor’s expression sours. “He was never properly reprimanded for that.”

“And yet, you survived to tell of it.”

Thor laughs, “I suppose.” His laugh is genuine but quiet for him. Heimdall likes it all the same. He also likes how Thor fills his space with a step forward. Thor winds arms around his waist. “I’ve remained fond of full moons on this world despite it all.”

“I believe it was the right choice to settle here,” Heimdall tells him. “Truly.”

Thor answers with a kiss, odd and tentative, the night's chill on his lips. Heimdall draws Thor into him, winds arms around his back and slides fingers into his short hair. Thor relaxes into his chest, and his kiss softens - a more pliant give to his mouth which Heimdall gladly takes.

“The night is cold, my king,” Heimdall says.

“Mmm,” Thor agrees. “What do you propose?”

Heimdall answers with another kiss. He leads this time, asserting himself with fist tight in Thor’s hair. His angle for control finds groaned approval. Thor slacks for Heimdall, body firm against his. The friction between them brings color back to Heimdall’s face. Thor’s cheeks, too, flood with warmth more reminiscent of summer days. His lips tremble when Heimdall withdraws.

“I propose my bed,” Heimdall says. “And you lying still as I peel your garments from you."

Desire sharpens Thor’s remaining eye. “Lying still?” He grins. “That doesn’t sound like me.”

“We’ll see.” With a friendly squeeze to the back of Thor’s neck, Heimdall withdraws. He leads the way from a site of remembrance to the next home, the next chapter.

Thor’s boot steps follow without hesitation.


End file.
